Crazy Love
by Darlin
Summary: Logan's mad as hell about Ororo being married and that he didn't do anything about it and, well, there's this plan he has on how to get his woman back. Long one shot. Called Crazy Love for a reason! Love'll make you do crazy.


**Crazy Love – By Darlin**

**A/N **– Sex scene has been deleted. It just bothered me but Logan's language seems appropriate because Logan's mad as hell about Ororo being married and that he didn't do anything about it. I don't usually write this kind of stuff but I wrote this in 2007. Yes, this is from my angry stage during that horrible time. All I can say is that this is how I think the characters would behave.

I never posted this because I was planning to combine this with another story back then but never finished that story so this just sat around. So many to edit, such drudgery but such fun. Now if you find a lot of mistakes I apologize but it takes me soooooooo long to go over stories and making corrections that I've decided not to take as much time as I usually do so I can get more old stories finished and posted.

**Disclaimer** – I don't own any recognizable characters as we all know and make no profit from this other than the sheer delight of Logan deciding, well, you can read on and see just what he's decided to do.

**-xox-**

The Wolverine had come to a decision. He would kill the Black Panther. It was an easy decision. An easy thing to do. That was his first instinct when he'd watched Ororo standing at the altar with the Black Panther. But Ororo genuinely looked happy and so he'd tried to accept her decision. He'd left immediately after the wedding. He'd been filled with rage ever since. He'd rampaged around the world as he dealt with his past, his excuse for his anger. It hadn't helped and changed nothing. So yes, he was going to kill the Black Panther.

He sat upon the task at once. He purchased a plane ticket then almost immediately canceled it. Metal detectors. He'd never make it through of course. He obviously wasn't thinking clearly. He changed plans and went to Canada. If he was going to commit the perfect murder he'd need a clear head and when he needed to think straight Canada was where he always returned.

Canada made him reminisce. Bittersweet memories. The women he'd loved he now mourned. One thing – one fact remained – if he had been man enough he would have made a stand, with Jean, with Mariko, with Ororo. If he'd cared enough he wouldn't have let the women he'd loved get away . . . or die. If. The word cleared his mind like nothing else. If. There were infinite possibilities. If he acted now. It wasn't too late! He refused to believe otherwise.

Contacts were plentiful and he took full advantage of them now. One call to an old friend and he secured a private plane and was again on his way to Africa. Once there he made his way to the stronghold of Wakanda. No one was home or so the servants claimed but he was an Avenger with all the privileges that entailed a cohort of the ex-Avenger king and so he was welcomed, treated as if he were royalty in fact.

Ororo's mother-in-law came to greet him. She wouldn't stop jabbering. She was happy happy, anticipating babies, the joy of becoming a grandmother, having strong heirs to the throne of the mighty nation her son ruled with a caring hand, oh how wonderful her son was she went on. She prattled as if she were a cheerleader in awe of the star football player, big man on campus. He couldn't escape despite his attempts. Twenty minutes later she promised she'd tell her "daughter" that the "Avenger Wolverine" had paid a visit.

"X-Man," he told her. "I'm an X-Man first and foremost."

"What X-Man?"

"X-Men. I'm Wolverine with _X-Men_."

"X-Man, X-Men? Are you or are you not an Avenger? You told me you were an Avenger – ah, see you are an Avenger like my son," she said when Logan nodded to shut her up. "T'Challa is now a member of the Fantastic Four did I mention this? He . . ."

"You told me, ma'am."

"An Avenger and now a member of the Fantastic Four! My little Prince has come into his own, he is married finally, fine and kind ruler of our country, he has become a fine man! I am very proud of my son you know. Our . . ."

"And . . . his wife?"

"His wife? What? Oh, I like her but, well, she's skinny! Hardly looks able to bare a child. Well, her hips are large so maybe she can but only time will tell. Months have past and no child yet! There must be many babies before I can tell you what I think of that one. Yes I like her, I am happy for my son but without heirs she is useless. But a son, many sons, will make her worthy," she finished with a careless shrug.

"I should be going."

"Dinner will be ready soon, stay. You asked me what I think and I will tell you. She is always flying off with him fighting battles when she is not needed and now joining a super hero team as if she thinks she's better than everyone. How can you have children when always in combat? What if something happens to the child inside her if she is hurt? But she does not listen. Ah, well, it is between them and not me. I keep my lips sealed; it is none of my business. Will you change your mind and stay for dinner, Avenger?"

"No. No thank you, ma'am."

"I will tell . . ."

"Thanks, appreciate that, see ya around." He didn't give her time to finish. He strode towards the door and made his way out of the palace compound. In his mind it resembled a prison – Ororo's prison.

He'd forgotten she'd joined the Fantastic Four. His mind was supposed to be clear instead his thoughts were muddled. He called Ben Grimm, the Thing, of the Fantastic Four. The royal couple had left Wakanda just before he'd arrived in Africa Ben told him. Luck wasn't going his way. Damn.

Well, he was on a mission that he planned to see to the end so he headed back to New York. Ben would let him in. After that he could easily find the newlywed's quarters, do a little reconnaissance. It bothered him to think about them sharing a bed. It should have been him, it would be.

He'd find T'Challa and finish what he'd set out to do. He'd make sure she wasn't there. Maybe he'd tell Ben what he was going to do. Ben would understand. Ben had wanted to kill Johnny just the same way Logan wanted to kill T'Challa after he'd lost Alicia to Johnny. Maybe Ben could get Ororo out of the way. But how to explain how the Panther died when he had three or six claw marks torn through him? He'd have to burn the carcass. Easy enough. He'd decapitate him too for good measure.

Just as he expected Ben welcomed him with a hearty clap on the back that rattled his adamantium bones. Casual chit chat, which Ben loved, was revealing. The newlyweds were out. Logan was glad of that. He got Ben to give him a tour of the place, noted the newlyweds quarters then hung around for a while, played some poker, lost all cash on hand to Ben because his mind was wandering over all the avenues available to him, when, how, where, covering his steps, making good his escape and taking Ororo with him not to mention he had to put up with Johnny's lame jokes all while they played. Finally the two Fantastic Four members were yawning and looking at him as if they expected him to go.

"You know when they'll be back?" he asked, causally.

"Who knows with those two lovebirds?" Johnny laughed. "They act more in love than Sue and Richard when they got married. Remember how disgusting that was, Ben?"

"Lay off Stretch an' Susie," Ben grunted, eying Logan curiously but Logan got up as casually as ever nodding to both.

"She's happy, Logan" Ben said. "People don't find that kind of happiness just waitin' down the street for 'em ya know. It ain't easy finding what the two of 'em got." And when Logan only looked at him with blank eyes, his jaw twitching, Ben continued, some instinct within him making him want to protect his team mates, "You know, I'd give my right arm for what they got."

Logan didn't want to hear that crap because he knew she'd be happier with him. If he could kill her husband without her finding out it was him who'd killed him. Still saying nothing Logan headed for the exit. He was glad he hadn't told Ben anything since Johnny had showed up. Logan didn't know why he'd thought the big guy would've gone along with it anyway. He could tell Ben had some idea of how he felt about Ororo the way he'd gone on about how happy she was. Ororo in love? Ben expected him to believe she loved that character – with his sneaking, lying, arrogant ways? Love? The brick wall he punched outside suffered worse than the ripped skin on his knuckles which quickly healed over. If she'd fallen in love with the guy after only knowing him for a handful of minutes and not seeing him but once or twice in a a couple of decades then he didn't know Ororo at all.

It was crazy but he swore he heard her voice in his head. He had to be hearing things, he thought. He pressed his forehead against the wall and tried to collect himself. Clear head, clear head, he told himself. And yet he heard it again, that beautiful soft regal voice with the accent you couldn't quite place and always wondered about – not quite British, not quite of the African continent, not quite American. So captivating you always wanted to hear her speak. But now it was like bittersweet torture to his ears as well as his other senses for he could swear he smelled the light scent of rain and wind and earth that lingered whenever Ororo was near.

"Logan?"

He spun around, saw Ororo standing before him, concern written all over her face.

"Logan, are you all right?"

He could barely nod as captivated as he was by her deep, blue eyes full of concern.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"What?"

"It's good to see you, Logan but what on earth are you doing? Are you alright?" she asked, worried because she'd seen him punch the wall.

"Yeah?"

"Logan," T'Challa said by way of acknowledgment and Logan noticed him for the first time. The Panther put a possessive arm around Ororo's waist and the two men looked at each other without speaking for a long moment.

Logan couldn't help thinking the arm snaking around Ororo was some evil thing. If he looked at the man he would gut him then and there so he looked back at Ororo. Gut him, pull out his organs and . . . Ororo's half smile calmed him and he remembered to act as if everything was okay.

"Can we talk a minute, 'Ro?"

"Of course, Logan."

"I'll meet you inside, baby unless you want me to wait."

She shook her head barely glancing at her husband. The sight of Logan in such a defeated position with his head leaning against the wall had struck her almost like a physical blow. It was an unexpected pain, so much so that her heart felt as if it would burst but from joy as well as sorrow. Studying him now she thought how different he was. Almost jittery and when had he started attacking brick walls? She wanted to believe he had come specifically to see her but common sense told her otherwise and so she forced her emotions back in line. However chance had brought them together all that mattered was that something was bothering Logan. One of her oldest and dearest friends needed her and she would never turn her back on him even if things hadn't worked out between them as she'd hoped they might.

Logan unconsciously stepped to her left so he was closest to the street and they moved silently away from her husband, neither looking back. Logan was relieved that she hadn't ask T'Challa for permission. If she had he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from killing the man on the spot, be done with it, grab her, run away somewhere far, give up the X-Men, the Avengers and the Fantastic Four. Fuck the Fantastic Four!

"I love you," he said, getting straight to the point once they turned the corner.

"Oh," Ororo murmured. She kept walking, stunned but he caught her arm, stopped her.

"I know, I should've told you before but things didn't work out right. You wanted to stay in Africa and that wasn't what I wanted but I was okay with it only then you and him . . . I never figured you'd marry him, you never told me anything."

"You didn't give me a reason to," she said very calmly.

"Well, I am now."

"Don't you think it's a little too late, Logan?"

"Yes."

Well, at least he wasn't entirely crazy, she thought.

"I know so much I never knew before, 'Ro! Things are different now."

She softened. How hard it must have been for him, not knowing anything about himself, always that emptiness in the back of his mind, always wanting to know but unable to.

"Come with me!" he said, taking her by the shoulders and moving her away from the bustle of the street.

"If I want to live?" she said with a grin, all anger gone.

He grinned back. She took his hand, held it tight. He caught her around the waist, lowered her so that she was almost parallel to the sidewalk and kissed her. He kissed her like she deserved, slow, soft, deep, full of need, full of love.

"I love you, Ororo come with me," he repeated, his voice a throaty whisper.

"Okay," she said looking deep into his eyes. "Is that what you want me to say? Just like that?"

"Pretty much, darlin'. I missed too many chances before. Dump that – dump him, 'Ro."

Maybe she needed another kiss he thought when she looked skeptical so he kissed her again with determined vigor. He heard her murmur appreciatively which reassured him and he held her tighter. Show her how he felt, that was key, he thought. Maybe he wouldn't have to kill the Panther after all. When he released her he was smiling, confident he'd done the right thing by taking her like this.

"I love you too, Logan," she said. Her voice was so soft that if Logan didn't have the sharp hearing he was famous for he wouldn't have been able to catch her declaration. It was a desperate sad whisper. She moved away from him and shook her head slowly without looking at him.

"'Ro, we can make this work," he said, following her and wrapping his arms around her again.

"I love you more than you could possibly know, Logan but I cannot leave everything for you. In all fairness you should not even expect that of me," she said pushing him away.

"I don't believe you love him, 'Ro. You barely know the guy!" he exploded.

"I – things change, you've no idea what has happened between us."

"You can't even deny it," he snorted.

"What if I can't? He loves me, we're happy. He satisfies me. I am . . . content."

"Fuck that. You an' me weren't happy? I didn't satisfy you?"

"He wanted me."

"I did too, 'Ro! I still do, Ororo!"

"You had a poor way of showing it."

"I had to deal with a lot of stuff. I'm here now aren't I?"

"So, I am to divorce him."

He noticed it was more a thought spoken aloud than a question. She was moving along the same path he was. She only needed his guidance. He drew her to him again smothering her with heartfelt kisses. And when she started to laugh against his lips he laughed too. Their hands linked and he led her down the street. Was it going to be so easy with no need to kill? He felt a little cheated. He'd been looking forward to murdering the son of a bitch that had stolen Ororo from him. Finish it for good, cut off the head, burn the body, scatter the ashes.

Every night Ororo had wished she had been loved enough by the one man she'd wanted. Every morning when she woke up she'd wished it wasn't her husband that she was waking up to. He was a good man, a proud man who didn't deserve someone who couldn't love him as he seemed to love her. Everything had been so rushed. She would have never accepted his proposal if Logan hadn't hurt her by his lack of words and feeling. If he'd only loved her. Now she was running down the street hand in hand with the man she loved. It was crazy. _She_ was crazy but knowing this made her run all the harder.

**Part Two**

Was this a dream? Ororo couldn't think straight. She'd missed Logan more than she had even confessed to herself. She missed his touch, his lips, the ever present, rough stubble on his face, the way he knew her – every inch of her like no other man could ever know her.

Determination. That only was keeping him going. There were no if's now. She was here with him, in his bed, her long lean body bared for him to devour and he would devour it but not hungrily despite the long months of wanting her. He was confident that he could keep her now and make her his if he made love to her like he'd never done before.

She felt this too. She'd tried not to think of what she'd given up but, wrong as it was she wanted him to make love to her. She needed to feel him inside her, his heavy body crushing hers. She wanted to taste his sweat and smell that musky smell peculiar to him alone. It was as if her dreams were coming true. He'd never made love to her like this before. His lips were almost reverent as they played at her own lips wringing forth moans she couldn't hold back. His lips that knew the exact spot behind her ear and along her neck to coast more soulful moans from her. She couldn't hold back and her nails sunk into his back. Her eyes closed. Only this man and his touch mattered.

Logan needed more than sex. He needed to show her how much she truly meant to him. And though it was no different really than any other time they'd slept together, for he was never a selfish lover, it was completely different this time. He knew now. He loved her. He'd admitted the truth and so had she. They loved each other and he would love her thoroughly.

Half a year ago she would have been crying out for him to fuck her – harder – deeper – begging him not to stop. Tonight she could barely breathe. She felt as if she were drowning but it was sweet, exquisite torture. How long he made love to her she didn't know, couldn't guess. She arched her back high before giving herself up to an orgasm that shook her entire body, intensified when she felt his thick hardness shooting his own release inside her. Dreaming. Drowning. What little breath she had he gave her.

Every night she'd lain in bed trying to rein her thoughts in. Every night she wished she couldn't dream but of course she had. Dreams of Logan and her, the way they had been before everything had spun out of control. She'd dreamed of little ordinary things not heated dreams of all the heated sex they'd shared. Instead they might be walking in a city whose landscape turned seamlessly into the countryside, walking hand in hand, a brook nearby, laughing together. One time he had been looking for pots in a kitchen that looked like none she recognized. His tan skin was sweating and he wore a white apron and a tall crisp white chef's hat. And they'd very seriously looked all over for pans, no laughter, just seeking – endlessly.

"I didn't know you loved me like . . . like . . ."

"Like what?"

They were laying side by side and holding hands.

"Enough to . . . to do this."

"What about you?"

"I – I love you but . . ."

He hadn't planned on any buts so he kissed her again. Best to keep all doubts at bay. She didn't love her husband, that was obvious, because she wouldn't be there with him if she did. What was more than obvious, and he could smack himself upside the head with an adamantium bat for having seen too late, was that she really did love him. But it was enough that they both knew the truth now. He squeezed her hand and smiled into the darkness of the room. They'd known each other for almost forever whereas the other man – he refused to call him her husband now – was a virtual stranger. She'd turned to him when she had no one else. He'd probably caught her in a moment of weakness.

Well, he'd buoy her up from now on. He wouldn't stop telling her how he felt and as he thought this he pulled her to him. She was drowsy from love making and she curled up against him, her head resting in the crook of his arm. Usually he would be the one that was falling asleep but his mind was racing. He'd let her sleep then ease out of the bed so he could put a call through to Matt Murdock or Jennifer Walters, any lawyer available. Contacts, they were plentiful. He would make this work. He didn't even care that Ororo no longer possessed an ounce of morality. But he had roused her from the languid afterglow of lovemaking and now her mind was alert and unbeknownst to him reality had sunk in.

"This can't work," she said, her voice soft and quiet, solely for his ears as if she thought to be overheard. "I'm ashamed of what I've done," she finished, her voice trembling.

"What? For leaving me for him?" he demanded as he sprung up.

"I – you never told me anything, never gave me hope, never made me feel there was anything more than mindless, wanton sex between the two of us! What was I supposed to think or do? You could have said something but instead you ran."

"What? I didn't run out on you, darlin' you ran out on me!"

"There was nothing to run out on," she said, her voice resuming her usual calm demeanor.

"You . . . you should've known how I felt," he muttered.

"Hah!" she exclaimed.

"We were together, everyone knew, you knew how I felt!"

"I hoped but how could I _know_ if you never articulated it, Logan?"

"I wanted to . . ."

"Liar! You were happy with the status quo, content that I wanted nothing in return even though I was falling in love with you. You had access to my bed without any strings attached, it was all you wanted, damn you!"

"That ain't true, darlin'." He felt a chill go through his body as fear swept through him.

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm telling you now damn it!"

"Now . . . Logan, now isn't good enough," she said.

"It was good enough to just get you in the sack with me," he sneered.

She gasped, hurt and outraged, and he knew he shouldn't have said that but he couldn't help himself he was so full of anger and bewilderment. He was lost. Everything had been fine mere minutes ago. He couldn't understand what had made her change in those few minutes. She rolled away from him and started to get up on the other side of the bed but he caught her by the waist, burying his face in her hair.

"I'm sorry, 'Ro. I didn't mean it like that. You . . . you know me. I'm not like Hank or Remy with fancy words. I know I should've told you, I admit I was wrong okay? And I'm sorry, darlin' believe me you don't know how sorry I am and not about saying what I just said but about everything. I messed up because I couldn't face the truth. I was stupid, that's the honest truth."

"Oh, Logan, oh, Logan, what are we going to do?" she cried.

"Stay together."

She laughed, dry and half halfheartedly. "Do you know how I am to live with the fact that I so easily betrayed my husband?"

"You didn't betray him as much as you betrayed us, darlin'."

"Don't say that! You gave me no hope, not even a crumb of hope."

"So you married the first man who asked you?"

She twisted in his arms so she could look at him, anger flaming in her eyes.

"What? Don't look at me like that, 'Ro, you _did_! That isn't my fault," he said.

"I was lonely. You gave me nothing," she said, sagging in his arms.

"I plan on changing that, 'Roro. We'll leave all this behind, everything we know, start over somewhere just you and me."

"I can't."

"Yeah, you can. You just did."

"No, I cannot leave my husband nor can I break my vows as if they meant nothing. I am not like you."

Those last words were an intentional assault on his honor. He released her, moved off the bed and began pacing the room heedless that he was naked.

"So I'm the bastard with no honor is that it?" he asked, glancing at her then looking away as he racked his brain for something to grasp hold of, something, no matter how small, to keep her there with him.

"Alright, I am a fucking bastard but I know when to set honor aside. It's called survival of the fittest, darlin'. I told you I wanted you and you came with me, I didn't force you. I didn't need to force you because you wanted me and if that doesn't prove you love me more than you think you love your so called husband, darlin' you're fooling yourself."

He stopped in front of her and pierced her with a determined gaze that she refused to meet.

"People do it all the time, 'Ro. They get divorced like they're throwing out the trash. I ain't even asking you ta do that. We don't have to be married, we're married in our hearts, I just want you to come with me, to be with me."

"I certainly can't be with you without divorcing him," she said still not looking at him not even sure what she was saying.

"Then divorce the son of a bitch! Or if you want I'll kill him. Oh, yeah look at me like I'm fucking Magneto, right! But I'll kill him if that'll make it look better for you, 'Ro, if that's what it takes for us to be together. I got no compunction 'bout guttin' him. No one even needs to know. You stay here an' I'll kill him while he's sleepin', won't be a problem."

"I should be shocked," she said slowly. "I would be had anyone else said such a thing. I half believe you would but, Logan even if I were crazy enough to agree to such madness _I_ would know what we'd done and it _would_ be _we_ for my silence would be approval, my silence would be the weapon that murdered an innocent man."

"I'll kill him without you having to know about it then."

"Logan, you can't be serious!"

"Hell yes I'm serious! Do I look like I'm fucking joking?"

She looked at his face, flushed red from anger and shook her head. She could barely believe they were having this discussion while he stood before her completely nude and feeling defiantly righteous. It was too surreal. She moved to stand but he forced her back to the bed and sat down beside her, trapping her hands in his.

"Okay, I won't kill him, just leave him. That's all I'm asking, Ororo."

"You ask more than that, Logan. You ask me to give up my honor, my very scruples."

"You just did that when we fucked!"

She caught her breath, repulsed by his description of what had just happened between them.

"I never would have called it that," she said, "but you're right. I just committed adultery. What have I been thinking? You've freely admitted you'll kill my husband and I . . . I have given you every reason to think I would accept such a heinous plot. No, Logan I do not want you to kill him. Maybe you should kill me instead, put us both out of our misery." And she lifted her head to the ceiling as if baring her throat for a death blow.

Logan dropped her hands as if they were on fire. His eyes were suddenly vacant and too late Ororo realized her mistake. Mariko – killed by his own hand!

"Oh, Logan my darling, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it like that!"

He got up, walked to the window and looked out at the dirty street below. He'd taken her to an apartment he kept in Hell's Kitchen and as he stood there he wondered what he'd been thinking. All his arguments for what he was doing seemed like childish whims no man had the right to think they could come true. He had actually planned to kill a man so he could have that man's wife. And she'd asked him to kill her instead! Just like Mariko had. Ororo knew how much he'd loved Mariko. She knew how deeply killing her had affected him. It had been a mercy killing so she wouldn't die a miserable, cruel death from the poison given to her. When he had struck the killing blow it had been as if he'd given her the poison himself. Unforgivable, unbearable, a memory he never wanted to relive and now she was telling him to kill her as if she expected such a thing from him could ever be possible again!

"I am truly sorry – Logan, please . . ."

He didn't realize he was shaking with fury but her touch brought him back, calmed him. Her hand, steady and warm, on his arm. He could feel the heat from her body as she stood beside him, could smell her fear but not for herself – for him. Her naked body pushed against his backside and her arms wound around his chest. He felt her chest heave, caught the scent of tears and had he not been sure before he knew now that she truly did love him. Her regret, the fear, the tears, even the tempo of her voice, all of this told him that this woman was his and that's all he wanted.

He knew he was asking a lot of her but he believed she loved him enough to stay with him. He'd make it right between them; make it so her honor wasn't stained like his. He would still kill the Panther because he'd learned the hard way that with enemies like Sabretooth if you let them live, showed them mercy, they would keep coming back. He'd have to change his plans, let enough time pass before he killed him though, enough time so Ororo wouldn't suspect him.

"Logan?"

He turned, half grinned and the small smile went straight to her heart. He was okay, her words hadn't brought back painful memories then. She clung to him, thankful when he received her with a tight embrace. He was alright!

"I've loved you for a long time," she said. "Too long."

"Me too, darlin' what an idiot huh?"

"A pair," she laughed.

He didn't. He looked up at her. He loved this woman and for a moment he'd almost forgotten how much. The power of words, he'd forgotten how strong they were. If he'd only said something before all this but then she hadn't either. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. They'd both been fools but they could fix all that now.

"I'll fill the tub, you'll feel better after we take a bath, you always do," he said, brushing his lips gently against hers before letting her go.

That he remembered something so simple made her feel warm inside, warm and cherished. She watched him walk away, his body almost calling out to her with its muscular beauty. She knew it so well, had missed it even when making love with her husband – no, that had only been sex with him, nothing but sex. New and different, fulfilling even, but never love making.

She heard water running just as if nothing had changed between Logan and her, their usual bath or shower after love making and more often than not more love making in the tub or shower. Suddenly she felt as if she might burst from joy. She wasn't dreaming. This was real, they were going to be together. And yet could it really be so easy? She prayed to the gods that it could be but none bothered to respond. It was then that she realized the connection she felt with the earth felt wrong somehow, as if she'd shattered it in her betrayal of all that she was, as if the bond had deserted her. Was this the price of happiness? There was no answer, not from the gods or herself. When Logan came back she was gone.

**Part Three**

"I can fix this," Ororo whispered.

The hot sudsy bath felt luxurious, not that there hadn't been plenty of luxuries in Wakanda but no, she wasn't going to think of the past. The past was best forgotten. She had always learned from mistakes and not dwelt on them. She would learn this time too. But the bath reminded her of Australia and she remembered the day when she first knew she could love Logan _if_ she ever gave in to him. Even something so simple as a bath brought memories of him. She'd landed in Betsy's bathtub once in Maynards Plains, Australia and she'd felt so silly. She remembered Logan kissing her there in the hot Outback. She sighed. The past was the past, over and done with. How many times must she remind herself? If she couldn't put the past to bed she couldn't have a future with Logan. No! She'd meant she couldn't have a future with T'Challa!

Banging on the bathroom door startled her. She looked around the room for her clothes then felt utterly foolish when T'Challa entered. He was heavy handed and she'd tried to tell him to knock gently, that his loud hammering disturbed her equilibrium. He seldom remembered. He'd tell her, "I'm anxious to see you." Logan would've understood, she thought.

"You were gone a long time, baby. What did you and Wolverine talk about?" T'Challa said as he sat on the edge of the large tub.

"Fine," she said, sinking lower into the tub and moving bubbles towards her chest, trying to hide her nakedness from him.

"Fine?"

"He was fine." She grimaced slightly at the word she'd chosen to describe Logan. He was one fine man no doubt about that but she knew he wouldn't be fine now that she'd left him.

"You were gone a long time; I was ready to send my Dora Milaje after you."

Ororo hated the the Dora Milaje. It was strange having half naked women watching over her husband. But she'd never mentioned it to him. Somehow she was sure he'd slept with every last one of them. He was that way. Sex with him was both exciting and decadent. The more they did it the more she'd begun to feel as if she were defiling herself in some absurd way. Now she boldly accepted the reason for that. She'd been mentally engaged elsewhere, committed to another – damn that man! But she couldn't be angry with Logan. She'd left him like the coward she was. He would be hurt. But part of her demanded to know how hurt could he be when he must have known she could never stay with him, not like that. If T'Challa died of course but . . .

Her eyes grew wide at the path her thoughts had taken and she splashed water over her face as if to wake herself from the trance she must have been in. She was appalled with herself. Logan had put thoughts of T'Challa's convenient death into her head. She would be free of her husband if he were dead. The thought wouldn't go away. She felt as if she would burn with shame. T'Challa deserved better.

She jerked unconsciously. Her husband was fondling her face. She never liked the way he pulled at her cheeks as if remarking on how healthy she was. It made her feel childish. She knocked his hands away and covered herself, both arms crisscrossed over her chest. He leaned in to kiss her and she felt as if she would die but she didn't pull back. She couldn't do this, she thought when he kissed her a second time, slow and deep, the type of kisses she'd loved so much when they'd first gotten together only months ago, but those kisses, in a span of hours, had now grown loathsome.

'_You've made your bed was the American expression, and so you have to sleep in it_,' a little voice inside her head told her harshly. But could she? Now, after she'd been with Logan, now that she knew he loved her?

"Hey, the water's cold! Come on and get out, baby, let me warm you up."

"I . . . okay." She tried to hold back the shudder that went through her as she stood up, water running like in rivulets down her body, and he wrapped her in his arms.

He loved her somehow. It hadn't concerned her overly at first, the thrill of a new romance had been so unexpected and so utterly welcomed after Logan had left her. Still, on some level she had always wondered if T'Challa really did love her. You didn't go in search of a wife amongst all the eligible women you'd known in your past and then play a childish Eeny Meeny Miny Moe game like he had, not if you already knew whom you loved and wanted. But she'd told herself she didn't care if he loved her or not because he'd wanted her and she'd needed to feel wanted. Running from her own feelings had blinded her. Logan was right. Maybe he had ran away but so had she. They'd both been afraid to admit the truth.

T'Challa picked her up, slippery wet body and all, and carried her into their bedroom. He kissed her again and she felt inexplicably dirty. He was still a good kisser she just couldn't stand his touch after she'd given into Logan. Her heart wasn't with T'Challa, it never had been. She broke the kiss and gave him a weary smile wondering what to tell her husband.

"My baby can't wait," he laughed, removing his robe.

"No, I can."

But he disregarded what she'd said. He was above her, his large body, beautifully built, long and muscular, the skin such a beautiful deep brown, gloriously ready to take her. She had appreciated his fit body and the sex had been good at first, new sex usually always was, but he didn't know her like Logan did. After today she knew he never would. He didn't know the secret spots to touch, to kiss, to tease. He wouldn't touch her breast at all, showing nothing but respect for the breast that would one day nourish their children. He'd told her it was a belief many African's held. She missed the way Logan had caressed her breast and she'd often longed to be touched there.

And there were other things. He didn't know she didn't like to have an orgasm right away, that she reveled in the sheer torture of being made to wait, even made to beg for it. He wasn't forceful enough, not that she wanted to be beaten, maybe tied up once in a while in fun the way she and Logan did with each other sometimes. He didn't like that either nor did he care to hear unladylike words coming from the mouth of the future mother of his children. He didn't know she liked small kisses, like old lovers give and he seemed entirely uninspired to try. It was only deep and meaningful, sometimes sloppy, kisses with him, and usually only when he was ready for sex. She missed those brief but sweet kisses Logan gave her when she least expected it. She missed Logan, his touch, his face, his smile, his gruffness. She just wanted to be with him and not her husband. She'd made the gravest mistake any woman could and she didn't know how to undo it.

"Whoa, what's wrong?" he asked when she was unresponsive. He reached out for her but she scrambled away from him, the bed covers catching clumsily between her legs.

"I'm not feeling well," she said, the only thing that she could say that wasn't a lie and that wouldn't hurt him.

"Oh."

He looked disappointed. She wished he'd go make love to his bodyguards. Settling back against the oak headboard of the bed she bunched her legs up to her chest then pulled the covers over her.

"Do you want me to call Dr. Reyes?"

Ororo shook her head not at all surprised that he knew Cecelia Reyes even though she'd never once mentioned her old team mate. She had come to learn that he knew a lot about everything and wasn't hesitant to let you know. He had never denied his intent to spy on the Avengers so why, she supposed, would he not spy on the X-Men or any other super powered group for that matter? He knew almost everything there was to know about the X-Men as if he'd kept tabs on them or perhaps on her though he'd never once attempted to contact her when she was at her lowest and needed a friend.

She found herself resenting that, his lack of contact. When she lost her mutant given powers, left grieving for the connection she had with the environment, she felt that a man who still loved or cared for you would at least pick up the phone and say hello. Or when she was near death wouldn't the man that loved her so deeply have been at her bedside – like Logan had been? Couldn't he have called? It was pointless and downright ornery of her to resent his absence during those times when she hadn't once thought of him nor kept in touch but she found herself becoming more and more aggravated with him.

Maybe she was being hyprocritical but in light of all that he knew about the X-Men and herself, well it was more than a little irritating. If he knew so much then why hadn't he been there when she'd been falling in love with Forge and then was rejected by him? Why had he waited until after she was caught up with yet another man to make his move? Why hadn't he saved her from Forge and from Logan – before she fell for them? Why risk her falling in love with another man if she meant so much to him? Had he done that deliberately and if he had then why? To get at Logan somehow? Because Logan was now a full time Avenger and he wasn't? He'd hinted that he knew she and Logan had slept together but other than childishly treating Logan like a rival it hadn't even bothered him that his wife had just gone off with Logan for several hours. Was that love or was it smug confidence – to think she would come to him whenever _he _was ready and that she would never stray?

"I feel ill," she said pushing at his smooth, hairless chest. She felt as if she might vomit.

"I got something that'll make my baby feel better," he said with his sexy smile that had excited Ororo in the beginning of their relationship. Now it just disturbed her.

"No, I'm serious I can't – I'm not feeling well."

"For real?"

She took offense at his tone as if he thought she'd picked the most inopportune time to be sick, ruining his chance to get off.

"Baby," he whispered in her ear trying to sweet talk her into changing her mind as if her illness was only imagined.

"I-I think I'm going to throw up!" she shouted then covered her mouth, mortified that she'd spoken her thoughts out loud. His touch, now, was like the touch of a devil, bringing fear and loathing like she'd never experienced before. And it wasn't his fault. He was generous and loving and handsome with a body to make any woman drool.

He moved off her then studied her, a strange look on his face.

"You were fine today," he said.

"Maybe something I ate . . ." she said, faltering, lying. What had happened to her that she was resorting to lies? She was not only an adulteress but a liar now!

"Baby, you - you aren't pregnant are you?" he asked, his face lighting up.

Ororo's eyes bulged.

"When were you going to tell me, Ororo? I've got to call my mother!"

"No! No! I'm not pregnant!" she said quickly, hoping she really wasn't.

She couldn't be. She'd started using anything she could get her hands on at the drug store after they'd had the baby talk right after their first unplanned romp. He wanted lots of kids and she wanted none, at least not for a long time. They barely knew each other she'd reasoned, wanting more time to get to know each other. She knew he felt pressured by his mother, maybe by his countrymen for all that she knew, but after their talk she'd guarded her womb with total diligence. There were spermicides, vaginal condoms and the Sponge, which she loved. No precaution was too much.

"Bright Lady!" she cried suddenly as she realized she'd taken no precautions with Logan. Neither of them had been thinking clearly.

All the precautions she'd taken with T'Challa meant if she was pregnant the baby would come out looking nothing like her husband. She and Logan had briefly discussed birth control when they had started dating, their kisses getting deeper, his body telling her that he wanted her while they kissed goodnight at her door and he'd taken it upon himself to take care of it. She'd asked Betsy who'd given her gynecologist's phone number to her but the pill took time to kick in and Ororo didn't want to wait so she ended up never filling the prescription, one reason she'd learned about all the other methods.

Forge, like Logan, had used condoms and she hadn't had to worry about any of that. She laughed at her inexperience, a grown woman and only three men. But just as soon as she laughed she knew she'd never be the type of woman to sleep around. She really had made a mistake. Forge and Logan she cared for deeply. She would have married Forge and she wished she could marry Logan, but T'Challa she'd only _wanted_ to care for deeply and she only wanted to be divorced as soon as possible. She'd wronged herself and him as well as Logan. The stupid little man! Why hadn't he told her that he loved her or wanted her before he'd left her in Africa?

"Maybe I should call the hospital," T'Challa said, not sure what to make of her outburst or her sardonic laughter.

"No need, I'll go see Cecelia. If she's not at the hospital she should be home – I'll find her."

T'Challa watched her looking around wildly for clothes to put on. She snatched a pair of jeans lying on a chair then assaulted the closet ripping a shirt randomly off its hanger unmindful that the wooden hanger rocked crazily, threatening to fly off the clothes rod. She stuffed her feet into an old pair of sneakers and without addressing a mirror or running a comb through her hair she left without a further word, all the while hoping Cecelia could get her the morning after pill and wondering if that was murder or not. Surely if nothing had even begun to form it couldn't possibly be. She left, greatly troubled as if her soul were grieving. For what she couldn't say, for Logan? For herself? Her honor? Her morals? For T'Challa, for what they could have had? For the unborn child if there was to be one?

**-xox-**

Anyone who knew Logan might have expected him to be drunk as a sailor as the expression goes. He could drink more alcohol than any man could handle and not get a buzz but sometimes it worked. Mostly it didn't which was why he wasn't going to waste his time. He wasn't going to wallow in pity and he wasn't going to fuel his fury. Ororo walking out on him like that hurt and angered him. They'd been so close to having it all! He had a feeling that his idea of getting rid of the Panther had been too much for her. She didn't believe in killing even though she'd tried to kill at least two people and a Brood which did count since she had tried to kill herself thereby taking the embryo with her. It damn well counted! That made three beings she'd tried to kill. He counted them off mentally, Callisto, Marrow and that Brood thing and herself so she'd really tried to take out four!

Maybe they had different beliefs when it came to killing but she wasn't so different from him. When the need was there you did what you had to do. Okay, maybe he'd gone too far when he'd planned on killing the Panther and told her flat out but he would think of some way to fix this. He should never have left the room and ran that bath. He should've just taken her with him an ran the shower. His plan had been to show her how much he loved her, to smother her with love so she couldn't think just react. She was like him, no good with words and thoughts of love when it came to emotions but when he'd left that had given her a chance to think – his fault.

"Fuck off!" he snarled when someone rapped on his door. He was trying to think. He thought he heard Ororo's voice again. Thinking about her and him was driving him crazy. He had to . . .

"Logan, let me in please!"

"Fuck! 'Ro!" Logan ran into the living room, yanked the door open and hugged Ororo then pulled her into the room after looking around the hallway, making sure no one had followed her.

"Logan, I'm leaving him. I can't stand looking at him, his touch . . ."

Logan drew her to him, trying not to think of T'Challa touching her. But he couldn't stop thinking about it. "Did he, did you an' him . . . ?"

"No, Logan we didn't do anything. How could I after you and me made love? That's just it, I cannot be with him anymore. I thought I could. I thought I could continue living that lie my life was with him but I cannot. He wanted sex and I ran!"

Logan heaved a great happy sigh. "Darlin' you don't know how happy that . . ."

"Happy? Happy? Logan I'm not happy and I don't care how happy you are! I might be pregnant! Did you think of that?"

"Well, no but what if you are? Fuck. You're pregnant with his kid? Fuck. Okay, alright I'll raise it, fine. When are we leaving?"

Ororo kissed him very gently. "I love you very much, Logan. I know he would never react like you just did but I'm not pregnant that I know of and it wouldn't be his. That would be impossible."

Logan sighed with relief again. "So if you are pregnant it's mine – good. When do we go?"

"Where do we go? I cannot go back to the school. I've just walked out on my husband. They will think I'm crazy!"

"Probably already think you're crazy marryin' some guy you practically just met."

"Perhaps, but I cannot possibly feel right going back there. I don't even know if I can look at myself in the mirror. What we did, what we're doing, it's wrong."

"Love ain't wrong, nothin' wrong about it, darlin'. You don't love him, you love me. That's all there is to it."

"You never care what people think about you, Logan but I do. I don't want Kitty and the others to think of me as some adulterous, lying . . ."

"Stop callin' yourself that! I'm the one that made you sleep with me. I seduced ya, you didn't seduce me."

"I wanted you so badly."

Logan grinned, pecked her on the lips sweetly and said, "I never thought about havin' a family. Guess we should buy a house, move to the suburbs."

They laughed at that. "Yeah, I guess that would be too much. But I gotta keep you and our maybe baby safe so we gotta figure out where we're gonna go."

"Japan might be nice."

He thought about that. He appreciated that she'd suggested that because he knew she knew how much he loved Japan but he didn't want to take her there. He wanted to be somewhere with her that could just be their place with no other memories of anyone else. Only he couldn't think. Her delicious scent was filling his nostrils, her voluptuous body was too invitingly close. They'd figure things out after he made love to her again and this time she'd never want to walk away from him again.

**-xox-**

Ororo was still basking in the aftermath of the best orgasm she'd ever had when she heard loud banging and shouting in the apartment hallway. For a second she'd thought it was her husband but she snuggled closer to Logan, just thinking what a rat hole he lived in. Only Logan sat up, looked at her and then in the direction of the ruckus.

"No," she whispered. Surely that wasn't T'Challa out there. But it was. When Logan opened the bedroom door she could hear him calling her.

"Ororo let me in or I'll break this damn door down!"

She felt ill again. Caught. Caught like some sleazy whore. In one bound she had her clothes gripped to her and in a second she was at the window. It wouldn't budge. Logan had slipped on a pair of jeans and he walked over and forced the window up just as the first thud against the door sounded.

"So you're runnin' again, darlin'?" Logan asked.

"As should you," she said with a smile that reminded him of the days when she'd worn her Mohawk with pride.

"With me or without me? Though you know I'd rather stay an' carve 'im up than run," he said.

With her heart in her throat she held a hand out to him. "I'm crazy . . ."

"Two of a kind, darlin'."

"Then come with me, Logan but know this, I will make you pay for this – fleeing from my husband like a harlot in the night!"

"Stop with the melodrama, 'Ro. This is the best decision we've made since Africa. We love each other, we're gonna be alright, darlin'," he said as he helped her get out onto the fire escape.

"I do love you, Logan," she said, her words lost in the wind as she grabbed him then leapt.

"Love ya right back, darlin'!" Logan shouted as they soared through the sky.

"Hold on!" she said when she felt him slipping as she suddenly dropped downward.

"Get some height, darlin'or we're gonna end up splattered on the sidewalk in a minute."

"He will suspect that would be my escape route, Logan, flying high. We'll stay low, close to the buildings."

They plummeted until Logan felt he was going to be sick then suddenly they sailed forward and around building after building and then they were sky bound, leaving the city behind.

"I am now officially yours," she said above the sound of the wind that kept them aloft. "But you will pay for this, Logan as will I."

"You said that already."

"I'm a disgrace. No one will look at me the same ever again."

"No, darlin' they'll think you came to your senses finally an' they'll all be glad you're back – do a little happy dance and everything, some of 'em."

"Logan, you are crazy."

"Already been established. Both of us, remember?"

"I should fill your adamantium hide with lightning, do you know that?"

"That would hurt."

"But you would survive."

"Well, you'd have to wipe my carcass off the ground but I'd heal up."

"Somehow I will make you pay."

"How about instead ya just don't let me kill him?"

She wrapped an arm around him as she changed course. "I might consider that ample punishment if I believed you were serious."

"Oh, darlin' I'm dead serious. First chance I get I'll kill 'im if you let me. Better ta have a sneak like that out of the way."

"He is not a sneak."

"Whatever, he's . . ."

"Let's just agree not to talk about him."

"What will we talk about then? How much you want me, darlin'?"

"Oh, Logan I am so going to punish you. I am a ruined woman because of you!"

"Maybe use those furry handcuffs of yours?"

"That can be arranged, my darling," she laughed as they continued on their way to their new life together not knowing where they were going, if they were to have a child or what might happen. They'd righted a serious wrong and that was good enough for Logan. Ororo felt conflicted but love had won out and as she zoomed through the night sky and she felt Logan's gentle peck on her lips she knew she could live with her decision. She would get her divorce and she would settle down with the Wolverine and try to live a quiet life. Maybe they were truly crazy after all.

**~ Finis ~**


End file.
